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"And what has you here, brooding so?"
Nasir jumped in his surprise at finding Naevia so close to his side, meaning only one of two things: she moved as if shadow or Nasir was truly so sunk into dark thoughts that he hadn't taken notice of another presence.
A shadow she was, Nasir decided.
"I do not brood," Nasir hissed out, taking another sip of wine to wet throat. "I merely observe."
A glance in Naevia's direction was not needed to know there was a roll of eyes and a smirk. "Most troublesome thoughts, for you to bare fangs at dear friend," she said, sounding more amused than anything else. Falling silent, they both watched the German crowd. A raucous bunch, one that had welcomed Nasir with open arms that warmed heart. And Nasir was elated to see such happiness in his lover, truly, but--
"That German, the one attached to Agron's hip," Naevia began, pointing to the very person Nasir had spent the better part of the night observing. "What is his name?"
"Torsten," Nasir answered automatically, immediately recognizing his mistake and Naevia's true intention from the way she laughed.
"A mystery how the man still stands with you glaring daggers at him," Naevia teased, a warm hand brushing some of Nasir's bangs away from his eyes. Nasir jerked his head away from the touch, only to have it return with firm intent. Naevia was not one to be messed with, a fact well known. "And yet who does Agron sleep beside at night?"
It was a valid point from trusted friend that reached deaf ears. The cup of wine was drained in a few long gulps, bitterly sweet on his lips that made him think of Agron's skin. Always tasting of sweat and sand, vaguely of leather when Nasir's tongue traveled along groin and thighs. How long had Nasir spent slouched against this pillar, staring openly at his lover, only never to meet eyes? Agron had not sought him out in the crowd once, too engaged in conversation to notice absence. Conversation with Torsten.
"He falls to our bed late in the night," Nasir said quietly, strong brows drawn in a frown.
Naevia nodded her head, lips pressed together in a terse smile. "I know I would find myself in similar position should it have been a ship of Gauls liberated," she admitted.
Physically, Nasir supposed he could see the appeal in Torsten. Taller and broader than him, resembling Agron's stature, he was handsome. Fair hair and light eyes, Nasir was recognized that he was attractive in the brutish way that most of the Germans were. Low voice rolling through German words like rough poetry, laughing whenever Agron said anything, it licked a flame into the pit of Nasir's stomach. Every touch to Agron's shoulder or arm only fanned the flames, causing them to grow.
It was jealousy, something that Nasir had previously admonished Agron for. The man was possessive at the best of times, downright territorial at the worst. Caius had learned such a thing when he had overstepped boundaries in relation to Nasir, when Agron laid his claim to Nasir in front of the entire camp. Sure, Nasir hadn't been completely blind to the man's advances, but thought them harmless. Caius was harmless, unlike Torsten. There was nothing harmless about the Germans, certainly nothing innocent in the way the man leaned against Agron to whisper in his ear and set Nasir completely aflame.
"He is mine," Nasir stated, growled, pushing the clay cup into Naevia for her to take and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And I will claim him as such."
His gait was unsteady, though he still took two stairs at a time as he left the temple. Lugo's call to him was ignored, the man holding a flask of wine in each hand in greeting. Nasir was intent, dark eyes burning and not stopping until he was right before Torsten and Agron.
"Nasir--" Agron began to greet, voice pleased and Nasir hated the way he finished his name with a twinge of concern. Torsten looked up as well, an eyebrow arched and relatively uninterested.
"Torsten, I would have sport," Nasir said, not even bothering to conceal the growl in his voice. A hand along his wrist had him jerking his arm, shaking off Agron's touches.
Torsten was definitely smirking then, shaking his head. "You fight me?" he laughed, his common tongue broken. "Little man, little balls. Torsten break Agron's bitch."
From Agron, little man was a term of endearment, a tease. From Torsten, it made Nasir explode. Before he could help himself his was hissing, lunging, fingers wrapping around Torsten's throat. The German rolled back, a foot placed on Nasir's abdomen sending him flying over the fire they had been sitting in front of and crashing to the sands.
The wine was a blessing then, numbing what would undeniably hurt come morning. But Nasir was quick to roll on his feet as Torsten did, keeping himself crouched with another hiss. He was a panther, dark and dangerous, with sharpened claws and fangs. They circled each other, cautious of the fire, baser animals fighting over a mate. Teeth bared, he charged once more, regardless of how much larger Torsten was, how much stronger. All he could hear was the pounding of his blood, deaf to the roars of the Germans, Lugo and Saxa each holding onto Agron's arms to prevent him from intervening.
Nasir narrowly dodged a punch to the face, flicking his head enough for the fist to skim his cheek and get lost in his hair. It provided opportunity for a sharp elbow to the ribs, leaving Torsten howling in pain as Nasir skirted away. He flipped his head backwards, removing hair from his face just in time to anticipate another attack and dodge. Torsten had the advantage, yes, but Nasir was quick of feet and mind. Little blows dealt, skirting away and tripping up the other man until Torsten was roaring in anger.
"Fight like man!" Torsten yelled, a large hand reaching out to attempt a grab at Nasir. A failed attempt, Nasir landing yet another punch to the ribs hard enough to feel them cave just briefly. There was a wildness to his eyes, his grin, too much pleasure taken in the way Torsten gripped at his side in pain. It was a dangerous dance. Nasir couldn't dodge everything completely, instead lessening blows and parrying assaults when he could. A square punch to Torsten's face had blood pouring from the man's mouth, spit at the sand as rage consumed him.
It didn't take long for Torsten to catch on. Nasir should have known, shouldn't have pressed his luck. But he did, because the wine and victory made him bold, and for it, he was greeted with a sharp punch to the back and a rough hand in his hair. His head was yanked back so fiercely that he saw stars, feeling chunks of his hair ripped from scalp as he fell to his knees with a gasp. Except knees couldn't reach the earth, instead just suspended by his hair while his feet scrambled for some semblance of purchase to stop the searing pain. His limbs felt numb, just the pain in the middle of his spine and scalp coming through.
"Du verdienst ihn nicht," Torsten hissed between clenched teeth, eyes dangerous when Nasir met them. He didn't know what the German said, but he could make an inference by the grave faces of the other Germans and the way Agron punched Torsten in the face hard enough to hear the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage. The movement released Torsten's grip on Nasir, letting him fall to the ground with a soft gasp. His fingers felt numb, legs shaking when he rose with great effort. Agron's attack continued, brutal and unrelenting, giving Nasir opportunity to slink away into the temple while the Germans were distracted with parting the two.
Sober mind with drunk body, Nasir could already feel the pain blossom from where he'd been hit. A tender touch to his scalp came back with bloodied fingers, already aware of the bleeding to his lip and bruising of his cheek. He leaned against one of the stone walls heavily, relishing in the cold against his burning back, eyes screwing shut. Embarrassment and anger flushed his face, a fist slamming back against the wall at his own stupidity. Again and again, until blood dripped from his knuckles and Agron found him.
Nasir turned his face from what would have been a kiss, Agron undeterred and pressing into the exposed curve of his neck. "Have you gone mad?" he growled, arms on either side of Nasir's body to trap him there. And for once, Nasir felt trapped, not comfort like he usually did from those arms.
When eyes did meet, Nasir was glaring at Agron's frowning face. The man sported a split lip, and Nasir knew he would taste of blood should they kiss. "I did not care for Torsten's hands upon you," he said evenly, voice stern.
The flit of emotions across Agron's face was open, too open, as the man tended to be. Confusion first, flickering to recognition, then shock, and finally settling on anger.
"Jealousy?" Agron snapped, a hand slamming against the wall beside Nasir's head. "You risk life for misplaced jealousy?"
They were men of legendary tempers, brushing against one another like flint and steel. "Misplaced? The man attempts to steal you away! You retire to bed well past appropriate hour, spend all your time with him attached to hip, and not once do your eyes wander to me," Nasir hissed through clenched teeth, surging up to meet Agron's eyes squarely, to watch the reaction, to watch truth hit home.
The only thing Nasir was rewarded with was a brief flash of hurt. "He may have had my eyes and my attention as brother for a few days, yes, but you have my heart, Nasir," Agron said, voice softer then, like the knuckles that reached out to brush against his uninjured cheek. Once more, Nasir turned from him, feeling his heart clench in his chest and ashamed of it.
The kisses were gentle at first, pressed against his jaw, his cheek, avoiding his lips. Vaguely, Nasir wondered if they left blood in their wake. "Apologies," Agron murmured, wine-sweet breath fanning over Nasir's skin. Goosebumps followed in its wake, Agron's lips against his throat, collarbones, the curve of his shoulder. "You are my soul. It makes heart weep to see you injured once more because of my inability to see clearly." Hand strayed to Nasir's side absently, to the scar that puckered dark flesh still, long after healing. It was sensitive, but pride made Nasir arch away from the touch.
Agron was persistent, though, taking whatever Nasir would give him. It wasn't much, just an arch of his head when kisses fell to sensitive skin, eyes shut against the sting of embarrassment. He was angry, at himself for being so stupid, at Agron for being so blind. Torsten, for thinking himself better than Nasir for being kin to Agron, stronger and larger. And maybe that was what it boiled down, where Nasir's insecurities lay--the questioning of his place at Agron's side when the Germans came to them.
He knew that Agron had not taken any of them to bed, knew that he held the man's heart, the place beside him. Logically, anyway. But his heart spoke otherwise, of deeper insecurities and wanting reassurance. The soft kisses were apologies, soothing Nasir's frayed nerves, brushed over collarbones and the curve of his shoulders. Lips gentle against his cheek that would bruise, Agron's hand smoothing over his hair and letting out a quiet noise of distressed when his palm came back streaked with blood.
"Nasir--"
"On your knees," Nasir said, voice quiet in the darkness of the corridor they were in. Perfectly public, should anyone decide to walk by them. But Nasir needed it, needed the reassurance in ways he couldn't bring voice to. And it was reassuring in itself that Agron seemed to understand that, nodding his head once and dropping down.
Even on his knees, Agron was still tall enough to kiss along Nasir's stomach. Once to his ribs, where a punch had brushed him and was already sensitive. Nasir's fingers caught in his hair, stroking with gentle fingers while watching him. Eyes intent, they traced the movement of Agron's lips, the way his eyes fluttered shut with the simple pleasure of kissing Nasir's body. It had been a few days, since the Germans had came and all of this fire had begun. Agron's touches had been missed dearly, as his body was intent on letting the other man know.
Hands fell to his belt, so large and scarred, but well trained. Nasir couldn't tear his eyes from the sight, not even as a few people passed them, snickering accompanying the footfalls. Agron's hands didn't hesitate, though, eyes flicking up to meet Nasir's as he managed to work the well-worn leather tie open. There was a hunger there, tinged with something softer that was reserved only for him. Never Torsten, never any of the other Germans or slaves. Nasir and Nasir alone.
Agron was his, and he would claim him as such.
Nasir arched his hips away when he saw Agron's lips part, intent on taking the head of his cock into his mouth. The question was there, answered when Nasir's fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to drag the head over Agron's cheek. The hair there pricked at his skin, lighting sparks up his spine at the sensation. There was a smear of precome in its wake, visible in the low light from the moon pouring in a little ways away from them. Completely inappropriate and obscene, but Nasir wanted to see more.
Agron's eyes fell shut when Nasir pushed his cock against the man's forehead, bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he let Nasir do what he pleased. Fingers gripped at Agron's jaw, bringing his face closer, turning it this way and that for the light to catch the slick trails along his face. Nasir allowed Agron's hands to grip at his thighs to balance himself, making himself comfortable to take whatever Nasir would give him. Down the curve of his cheek, tracing the bow of lips. Nasir's fingers tightened when Agron's lips parted, pushing his head back with a stern look that spoke volumes.
Nasir was entranced by the sight, Agron's light skin against the head of his cock, flushed a dark purple with arousal. Again and again he pushed against Agron's lips, down over his stubbled chin, breathing deepening at every drop of precome that was rubbed into Agron's skin. And Agron just accepted it, something softer to his face that reminded Nasir of trust. Looks shared in battle, swords in hand and backs to one another. When Agron had told him of the lands East of the Rhine, when he spoke Duro's name for the first time.
"Open your mouth," Nasir ordered, voice still quiet. There was definitely cackling somewhere, definitely people passing by them to walk further into the temple. All were ignored when Agron complied, lips parting enough for Nasir to push his cock in slowly. The barely there scrape of teeth had him hissing, eyelids heavy as he watched himself disappear inch by inch. He paused only when Agron gagged, gripping onto the cords around his neck as if they were a collar. He pushed them up, until resting on the bottom of Agron's skull and he could use them to keep his head close.
There was a steady rhythm there, Agron leaning back against the cords so that Nasir could use them to push and pull his head. He kept the thrusts shallow, not wanting to injure but so captivated with the way Agron's lips stretched around him, wanting to please him and only him. The suction was a just right, a thing born of practice on dark nights such as these. Except usually within their room, laid claim to a few days after they arrived at the temple, and not a semi-dark corridor with the moonlight and faint conversation to accompany them. Occasional footfalls, a catcall or two, all upon deaf ears. They had only eyes for each other, Agron's pulse fluttering when Nasir's knuckles pressed against his throat while getting a tighter grip on the cords and thrust in earnest.
Every thrust pushed the boundaries, tears forming at the corner of Agron's eyes when he pushed a little too deep. "Relax," was all Nasir murmured, his free hand cupping the side of Agron's face. He thumb swiped away a stray tear as he pushed deeper, deeper, feeling Agron's throat spasm around him and the man cough wetly. Nasir allowed him to pull back, loosening his hold on the cords to give Agron space. His hips didn't move, though. He kept pushing the head of his cock against those swollen lips, the hand from Agron's face falling to his base in order to aid in movement. He let the head catch on Agron's lips, popping wetly with a sound that went straight to Nasir's core. He pushed his cock against Agron's cheeks, first to smear the saliva and precome over already dried paths and make his skin shine with slickness, then inside of Agron's cheek to watch the head stretch the skin taut. It was undeniably sexy, the way Agron's tongue was flicking against him to draw him further into his mouth, signal that he was ready to start again.
Nasir was firmer with his thrusts now, the hand from his cock back on Agron's face to cradle it tenderly in juxtaposition to how he gripped tightly at the cords. Agron worked him well, Nasir's breath coming out in a soft, panted way as he fucked his mouth. The suction was perfect, and when Nasir thrust deeper, he could feel Agron relaxed. Ready for it this time, until Nasir tugged the cords sharply and brought Agron's nose right to his thatch of pubic hair. The shock was there between the two of them, Agron's eyes screwed shut while his throat worked. Nasir reveled in the feeling, though, letting out a few harder pants, barely able to draw in enough air. His lungs didn't want to cooperate, his thumb trembling slightly as he traced Agron's lips. Blue eyes burned when they opened, looking up to Nasir so earnestly that he felt the pit of his stomach jerk at the same moment his heart constricted.
The push away was harder than intended, causing Agron to cough again when his throat was suddenly free. The cords were finally released in favor of cupping Agron's neck and bringing his face closer, fingers tangled in the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck. Nasir was quick in his ministrations, jerking himself off right before Agron's face. There was a bit of confusion beneath the heat, Agron's eyes wide before realization settled and he simply opened his mouth and made Nasir break.
The first string of come landed right between Agron's eyes, falling shut in self-preservation. The next along his cheek, the third actually over his mouth and chin. The fourth was a bit weaker, right into Agron's mouth like he had wanted. Nasir couldn't believe the effect it was having on him, hand moving quicker to milk himself of every last drop, to see everything on Agron's face and watch the man take it like he would to no other. A drop or two against Agron's clean cheek, Nasir using the sensitive head to rub it into his skin. He traced Agron's lips once more, shaky little sounds akin to whimpers pouring from him shamelessly. Agron opened his left eye--the right still squinted shut against the come that clung to his lashes--and offered Nasir a warm sort of smile.
"Do not think me finished with you," Nasir mustered, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. The emotion was a plain in his voice as it was in Agron's eye, all the desire and love bare. His hands were shaking when he slumped against the wall, barely letting out a mewl when a hot mouth wrapped around his spent cock. His hips twitched regardless, wanting more but knowing it was too soon.
When Agron stood, when they kissed, it was all with a sated laziness. Nasir cracked an eye to see that Agron had cleaned himself up somewhat, making him miss the sight of Agron covered in his seed. A hand snuck between Agron's legs found the cloth of his subligaria damp with release, something that had Nasir moaning out. He was half tempted to lick Agron clean, from head to foot, only to soil him again. As it was, Nasir's tongue traveled up over Agron's cheek to taste himself there and let himself be taken over by hot lust.
"To our room," Agron whispered against his lips, head jerking in the direction of the inner temple.
"Yes," Nasir responded, voice kept low. "I would fuck you in our bed."
The way Agron laced their fingers together to tug him in the direction of their room was an answer in itself.